Chapter 11: interlude
Arella found that driving with her daughter's hood up over her face was not as difficult as she hadimagined. She still had to take quick spurts of glances from time to time, but the hood concealed her odd appearances while at the same time never hindered her view. Driving, on the other hand, was another story entirely.
Before she had been taken to Azarath, she had gone through little driving experience. At the very most, perhaps enough of the basics to get by. It had made trying to follow the titans back to Jump a rather unpleasant experience, she had even lost them many times. The only way that she was in Jump at all was based off the directions of an individual Arella had been hesitant to approach from the start. Needlessly, she was here now, and had been for a day, driving around on the last of Adeline Kane's gas.
She was still hungry, yes, but not to the extent of the pains she formerly endured. Of course none of this truly mattered. Arella could sense her daughter's presence in the city, but for the life of her she could not pinpoint it. Where ever her daughter was, some form of shield had been erected to diffuse her signature energy…and with good reason. If anyone from the Justice League suspected the threat of a demon in her daughter, then they would most likely kill her or exile her to prevent its occurrence.
Regardless, it still prevented her from reaching her daughter, and that saddened her greatly. If it was possible, Arella had hoped to have her life ended by her daughter, but to also spend the remaining days prior to the incident with her. True, Arella took care of Raven once Azar had passed, a small three years, and in that time Arella still felt she did not know her daughter. This was quite a surprise when Raven admitted more than once that Arella probably knew her better than anyone else, at least before her mental brush with Slade.
The car came up to a parking garage, four blocks down from the city's university. Arella's dark, slender eyes darted to Raven's bookbag in the passenger's seat. With it, any passerby would assume she was a student heading for class or meaning to head to a number of downtown cafés for homework. Slowly, she eased the car up to the parking bar, reached out and took her ticket from the mechanism holding the bar in place. The bar lifted, and entry was granted.
Arella slowly edged into the large and towering parking garage, silently thankful for her luck. It was pay upon leave, and with the lack of gas left in the car, Arella had no intention of keeping it, and that saved what little was left of her daughter's funds. It took nine floors, but eventually Arella was promised an open spot, which she ignored after mild contemplation. Instead, she opted to go all the way to the roof for its seclusion.
The journey took another three minutes, but the rewards were worth the venture. The able Azarian woman parked the vehicle and simple stared in awe. The city was vast, and although gray like most major cities, was of a brighter, warmer variant than she recalled Gotham ever being. It had placed a nagging, horrible, worrisome feeling in the back of her head to rest. This had been the home of her daughter, a warm place, a somewhat secure place.Her gaze trailed to the tower, and her daughter was part of the reason why it was so.
Yes, in her day of driving around the city Arella had spotted several news stands that had at least some sort of knowledge of the Titans. Arella was uncertain if the individuals she had heard in the woods matched the four seen in papers, but there was no mistaking what she had read and seen of her daughter. It meant thatall this time her daughter was well taken care of, and that she was using her father's powers for a good cause…
However this knowledge also pained her. It meant her daughter had thrown away Azar's teachings of pacifism. Not only this, but Raven had spent all her time protecting this city, making it this wonderful with her other teammates…and now she would destroy it. Arella couldn't help but feel as if most of the blame was on her head as well. She pulled herself quickly from these heavy thoughts and to her present condition. Her daughter must be found.
But first she had to establish a base of operations, or more easily put, a shelter to return to after her daily hunts. Arella could think of no other place besides a woman's shelter. She had, after all, been to one before her trip to Azarath. It had been the moment after she had been touched by that foul monster, and Arella could think of no safer place to go. There were churches….but she had grown an aversion to them when she had been lured to the wrong kind of churches, Trigon's churches. She had been so foolish…
Now was not the time to reminisce. She looked over the book bag's contents to assure their presence, and then exited the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. The car was worthless to her, and Arella hadn't much need of one anyway. Some poor dupe could steal it. With the end of the world looming ahead, it would make little difference.
The bag slung easily off her shoulder, and Arella, after years of training herself to walk with a straight back and poise, resulted to walking with a slouch common in everyone she saw. Arella wanted to fade away, blur into thebackdrop, become non-existent in the eyes that glanced her way. She wanted to avoid the members of the Blood Clan. As her daughter was in Jump, likewise millions of her husband's worshippers were as well. They would have felt her presence like a shark to blood. The moment she drove into the city's borders her attendance would have been known.
She had been lucky thus far, with no encounters, at least nothing direct. That luck, however, was changing…
Never one for elevators, Arella opted the route of the stairs. Everything had been fine up until the third flight down…then there had been trouble. She should have turned back around right when she sensed a terrible knot in her gut and the heaviness of the air. Instead she merely swallowed and continued forward; slouched with herhead low enough to let the hood easily hide her visage.
The two teenagers standing by the floor's exit door snickered heavily. Her impulse to gulp in anxiety was ignored. And Arella casually noddedto them in a silent acknowledgement of their existence, then turned past them to head down the next flight. It was at the moment her direct vision of the two was cut off that they lunged.
All of their weight slammed into her back and effectively shattered the balance she had. Arella plunged face first down the cement flight of stairs. There wasn't a scream from her, as it was more a startled yelp as she tumbled downward, the sounds of Raven's meditation mirror breaking further. Not surprisingly, Arella was more concerned about the items she cared than her well being.
The two assailants didn't give her long enough to recover. They were on her in a flash, both snatching either arm and hoisting her up to her feet. One then released his grip, replaced swiftly by the hand of the other, and Arella was supported in a slumping vertical slouch. She barely had time to look up to her attacker as he slammed forward a fist into her gut. Arella chocked a groan, her eyes clenching shut on impact. Instantly her body begged to curl up to soothe the ache that radiated from her belly. The boy who held her refused her the chance, keeping her perfectly unguarded for the next blow. This one hurt worse, striking the same spot it had before. The crude meaty sound of the attack left her before she realized it had happened. Again the blow came.
Again.
And again.
And again.
She was released like a rock to the ground, finally allowed to writhe up into the ball she had longed for. Her body shook, her chest rattled until finally she coughed ferociously. A coppery taste filled her mouth as blood hacked up her throat, then dribbled down her chin.
"…Please…." Another coughing fit interrupted her pained voice. "I have little money….take it and leave…"
Arella didn't mind that they laughed, she hadanticipated as much. But the words that came next sent a shiver down her spine.
"We don't want your money."
A tiny flicker of fear flashed in her dark eyes as she forced a glance to her assailants.
"We're here to restrain the Bride."
Arella remained unmoving as they lowered to seize her again. She had been through worse, far worse than being battered. They did not frighten her, not entirely. No, her fear was more for the lost chance she would have to find Raven before the portal opened. Certainly now there was no other sub route to take before death, and Arella was accepting of this knowledge.
Their hands did not reach for her arms, surely bruised by now, but had instead made sure to grasp a thick lock of her amethyst hair. Slender orbs shot wide on reflex, gaping in pain as tears came to keep her eyes moist. They dragged her, not fighting or kicking or resisting, through the descending floor's exit into the parking deck. While Arella gaped widely, she found her environment to be dark, cold, devoid of any light save for the few bulbs planted scarcely, and most of all it was desolate.
It was the perfect place to be victimized without any interruptions.
The teen flung her behind the side of a car, an impressive blockade for privacy. Arella wheezed, fighting back the burning mix of stomach reflux and more of the metallic blood.
Quietly, she murmured, "Why must you beat me when you already have me?"
"Heh, she wants to know why we're smacking her up?"
Arella could not help but feel as if she were attacked again, his words insulting her intelligence in some manor. She remained waiting in stillness.
"Because, we wanted to see just how much fight is in you. Our Lord and Redeemer, Skath, must have chosen you as His bride for some reason."
Of course they had to, Arella reflected, almost sarcastically. Even she had wondered the answer behind that question. Why out of everyone else on this god forsaken planet had Trigon singled her out? Years ago, closer to when her encounter with Him happened, that question plagued her. She fretted nightafter night, rolling those very words about in her head.
But Arella knew. She knew the answer clear as day now. Back then she had been young and naïve, foolishly squandering hopes for love and a family in the worst of places. Trigon had chosen her because she was feeble. Certainly she had come a long way from that. These boys would not find their answer here.
"Well bitch, aren't you gonna tell us why He chose you?" said the one whom had subliminally questioned her intellect.
Arella shakily put weight onto her feet, standing unevenly with hand to her gut. Not even managing her full, perfect posture, Arella resided to hunch and lean against the car for support. Softly, with some normalcy returning to her husky tone, sheoffered "The answers to which you seek no longer exist."
"Wrong answer!"
One rushed to her with youthful speed. Sooner than anticipated, her head had been grabbed and a knee was charging into her line of vision. The blow left a devastating crush through her face. Instantly her nose dampened while her eyes watered again, and a quick, hurting yelp leapt from her lips.
The knee came another time with yet a more excruciating result. The shattering, devastating force was heard and felt through her entire skull. Her nose was fractured, the delicate vomer bone splintered, bones crumbled into fragments. Another, more prominent scream came from the usual quiet and reserved woman. Blood filled her senses once again, clogging her nose, she gasped painfully for air through her mouth.
Still he was unrelenting. A strike to her eye. A strike to her mouth, to her cheek. At last one blow directed towards her forehead, where the charka gem glowed and emitted a small but effective shielding all of its own accord. But it left the physical force to hurl her backwards into the cement wall. Arella fell gracelessly, silently thanking Azar for the momentary relief.
That relief was still incalculably small. They approached her casually, and Arella looked up almost unseeingly. Her breath rang ragged a moment, before she uttered softly, "Strike me… you… could not do worse… than what I have… all ready experienced..."
"You little wench!" the other sneered, preparing a kick without a specific target as long as it hit her. It missed, striking the book bag barely hanging from her arm. He cursed loudly, swinging his leg to maintain balance, managing this time to haul it around to catch the side of her jaw. Her body half tumbled to the ground, where she remained patiently awaiting the next attack. One came not right away, but she discovered them flipping her over to her back.
"Wanna demonstrate that new move you learned from that wrestling show?" It was said to the other boy.
No answer was given aside the startling elbow pummeled in her gut. The air was effectively driven from her, and for an agonizing moment, Arella could not draw breath in. When she did, it was tattered and felt like not an ounce of oxygen had been retained. For the love of Azar, why could she not lose consciousness?
"What do you have to say now, bitch?" the one whom had felt insulted before demanded.
Arella huffed, eyes half lidded, but was unable to grace his question with an answer. It took far too much effort to try.
"Yeah, I thought so." He spat, and Arella winced as she felt it hit her cheek.
"I'd say the fight's out of her."
"What fight?" the teen snickered, not in the least disappointed.
The other chuckled lightly, oh so lightly at her expense. "Ready to go, oh wondrous Bride and Mother?"
Arella, expectedly, continued to lay in distressing silence, the only noise the sounds of her heavy and distorted breathing. She was slowly noticing a numbing, the thankful affects of adrenaline and shock mercifully setting in. Her injuries and the lack of sensation left her dazed, and she started as they grabbed for her arms once more. However, Arella's suffering had been prolonged enough, and finally a rescuer stepped in.
One's grip was ripped roughly from her arm, and the familiar sound of bones breaking sickeningly reverberated through the air. Arella's beaten face tilted upward to see, unbelieving of the scene that met her eyes.
Slade stood in all his glory with the boy's head in his grasp, twisted in an unnatural way. He released the teen and he fell dead to the ground. Arella's eyes widened, though one was considerable swelled shut, mouth agape and only capable of starring.
The other Blood Clan disciple stared mortified, the hand gripping Arella trembling fearfully. "Bro-bro-Brother B-Blood!"
Slade's masked head cocked, his eye zeroing in on him, and it narrowed in such away that the boy knew he was deciding whether to kill him or not. The boy totally lost it. He half dropped, half shoved Arella and he turned tail and bolted, half screaming in panic. Slade's eye tapered further, if possible. With a scowl on his hidden lips, he reached into his belt and retrieved a familiar disk with s-shaped prongs. His aim was exact, and the contraption met its mark, embedding where the head met the neck on the boy. It severed his spinal cord, and so too did the boy drop departed from this world.
Arella continued to stare, and watched unflinching as the full of this masked creature's attention turned entirely on her. She had seen death before; it had been all around her in the last moments of Azarath's life. But never had Arella been so near to it as this. Fear did not arise at the sights of death for she knew Trigon had means for her to remain alive. This Brother Blood would not kill her, but what he would do to her was still a mystery.
"So demonic messenger meets messenger angel." For an eternity it seemed Slade's steely glare board a hole through her soul, and she simply returned the favor with a look of unique awe.
When her breath returned, she said "…that was unnecessary."
Slade's hidden face curled into a most humored smile. "I can see where Raven gets her cynicism."
"You've…"her voice trailed as she finally noticed the charter marks emblazoned upon his brow and neck. They glowed with a fiery poise, and Arella recognized them instantly as being like the markings her daughter had bared to her.
"You are the man my child had raped." She realized. "Brother Blood."
This was the head of the clan searching to capture her. There would be no hope of escaping, even if she wanted to. It did leave her to wonder, if they were after her, then why had he been quick to kill the two whom had beaten her? Was it that Trigon wanted her unharmed? That seemed unlike Trigon.
"Please, call me Slade." There was a distinct superiorly scheming purr to his masculine voice. "It has a better ring, don't you think?"
He took a calculating step closer to her slumped form. The sounds of his steel toe boots echoing off the concrete walls clearly enhanced his characteristic ominous presence.
"But to be honest," this time his voice held distinct seriousness, "I am merely Trigon's messenger before I am His acclaimed Brother Blood." Both positions were said with disdain.
A messenger, a herald of news… Arella dually noted that this man didn't favor his positions. But his words were rather odd from him, not many so high up on Trigon's totem pole held such low regards for the demon.
Moreover, this Slade had not shown any signs of physical aggression towards her. There was no immature snickering, and he pointedly confronted her head on. For the moment, she was safe from another beating until he gave warning otherwise. Slowly she rose to her feet after assessing this, and stumbled once again to the car for support. Arella didn't resist the urge to rest her heavy head against the car's roof. The actions took great effort, and Arella found herself breathless from the tasks.
She panted slightly as her attention crawled back to the other. Slade had stepped further to her, coming to rest before her beaten form. Ever so casually, his slate blue eye gave her the once over. Her clothes were in disarray, her hair disheveled, and book bag barely held onto her body at the crook of her elbows. Mentally he noted that he had seen these clothes before. They were Raven's, and she had worn them when traveling to his late ex-wife's property.
These thoughts slipped to the back of his mind as he slinked back in his more loose and amused taunting tone, "I see you are just as Trigon described," then just slightly more grim, added, "A pathetic, frail, waif of a woman."
Arella didn't bother to argue. She hadn't argued over anything in years, and this was no different. What he said was likely true. To Trigon, that was exactly what she was. Taking in her new, tattered image, she didn't blame Slade for taking the demon for His word. But deep down, Arella felt differently. Frail she was not.
"Though Raven believes otherwise. She sees quite a deal in you, something you should be thankful for." A note of something unidentifiable was detected in his voice. Rage? Frustration? Disgruntlement? Resentment? And what exactly did he mean by that? Of course she was thankful her daughter thought highly of her, but what did Slade truly hint at?
Slade's gloved and armored hand reached out for her, and as he touched her arm she couldn't help the reaction of a severe flinch. Slade refused to retract, crawling his fingers up her arm only to grasp the strap of the book bag thus easing it back atop her shoulders. Arella exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
And it disgusted him. She had such weakness. Slade had absolutely no respect for the woman before him. Trigon had kept her alive, what else did the woman have left, aside fromher daughter? It didn't take a foolto realize Raven was Arella's goal. Yet here she was readily accepting any strike, any punch given to her without complaint, and thinking it would in some way let her reach her daughter. Normally this form of submission would make his role easier, but that was not the case here. At the moment her passive surrender filled him with revulsion. At least Raven fought him tooth and nail; Arella simply gave up.
She had deserved every punch and every kick, and Slade felt liable to further that administration. However, with great restraint he resisted that impulse. The entire purpose of saving her from the Blood Clan was to further win Raven's emotions. Slade, although despising the woman, could not help the memories of Raven's that swam about in his mind. On a level, some crude level, he could feel Raven's personality bubble inside him, eternally grateful her mother was standing right in front of him. This is how Slade knew his actions would work. The part of him that was Raven already appealed to it.
"Why…?" Arella finally question what he meant. Slade found it ironic that she looked so much like her daughter all the many times Raven had asked the same question.
"Raven loves you." Slade spoke matter of fact.
"My daughter is incapable of such things." Arella returned softly back, her voice raw, but still maintaining that richness that made her so noble. Yet none of it masked the sorrow and regret at believing such a statement. Of knowing that it must be true or else dire consequences would occur.
To that, Slade leaned forward now closer than ever to her trodden body. He cocked his head as if trying to observe her, dissect her, before stating with a knowing voice, "You'd be surprised by the passion with which Raven can care."
A collective pause.
"You could say I have experienced it first hand." His eye danced with a hint of smugness.
Arella swallowed loudly. Immediately she noticed what he was hinting at, and Arella wished to hear none of it. So she changed the subject.
"You're taking me back to His church." It wasn't asked, but said sullenly as Slade rested a hand on her shoulder.
He paused, and looked as if he was really considering what she had said; regardless that Arella made it sound like there was no other choice. Then, he bent down and placed an arm behind her knees, the other arm around her ribs, and swept her up into his arms.
"It goes against my better judgment, but no." Though unseen, there was a scowl on his face told by the dark tint of his voice. "Let's just say you have something that I want."
She rattled her brain while Slade searched their environment with a quick turn of his head. Then he was off, running with her in his arms. Arella could do little but grasp tightly around his neck for support. He dashed once more into the stair well, pausing to glance down the passage of open space between the rectangular, climbing stairs.
Arella's eyes widened as she realized what he was doing, and her arms only squeezed tighter. Panicked, she tried to plead, "Don't you dare—"
Too late, he swung his body up and over the railing and dropped through the passage. There was an eternity that passed as they both dropped the near dozen stories to the ground. Arella clenched herself tightly to Slade, preparing for the connection to the ground to kill them both. But to her surprise, the only thing that happened was the sharp sound of Slade's legs collapsing beneath them.
It was a jolt, but Slade prevented her from ever touching the ground. Again she anticipated for him to cry out, to fall forward, and to exclaim about his broken legs. Once more she was corrected, for next Slade stood back up, straightening his legs, seemingly cracking all of his bones back into place. Then he was running again, out the exit door, and into a series of back alleys.
Just…Just what is he? And what could he possibly want from her? The meditation mirror? It was broken and useless to all. The Blood Clan Bible? Redundant to even ask. The Book of Azar? Arella suspected that only Raven and she were capable of reading the language it was written in. If not the personal items she carried, then what? And if he wasn't taking her back to the refuge of the Church of Blood, then where?
Shakily, she tenderly raised her scuffed up hand to her face to gently pat the blood seeping from her nostrils in an attempt to remove any dry residue. It was of no use. Looking back up to him, she asked "What exactly do you need from me?"
And Slade delivered. "Raven's affection."
He suddenly stumbled in his steps, but caught his balance swiftly. What did he do? He hadn't meant to blurt that out. It was unnecessary for Arella to know that Trigon had decreed that Raven should love him. But…what had compelled him to say it? It couldn't have been that he had also wanted it. No, Slade refused to believe such a thing. He was just loosing his edge. The summation of being someone's lap dog for so long, Slade assumed.
But such thoughts never crossed Arella. She stared at him speculatively, unsure of how to interpret his answer. It wasn't every day someone claimed to want your demon child's love, especially someone who was mentally raped by that individual. The only possible motive to this was from his standings with Trigon, which was simply impossible. The demon was fueled by hate and rage, never love. Then Slade was acting on his own…to possibly help Raven?
Her silent reverie was interrupted.
"You aren't deserving of the value she gives you." There were lingering hints of aggression strung deep in his voice.
Once more Slade gave himself the proverbial mental kick. One slip he could write off, but two? Twice in one day? Not even five minutes apart? He should not be feeling as fiercely as he was on such a topic. What startled him more was that he could not give an excuse for saying it this time. These thoughts weren't something remotely near what Trigon wanted. This was ridiculous. Why should he care whether Raven loved her mother or not?
"But you are?" Arella countered.
Slade had not expected himself to falter. His body stopped running. His mouth opened, but nothing at all like him came out. In fact, nothing at all did come out. Normally he would never skip a beat in these heated discussions…but he was no longer himself anymore. Raven's consciousness was also swimming around in his brain, and like Raven, he too would have similar problems adjusting to this.
Was he truly heated over this because he actually wanted Raven to care for him as much as she did Arella? That it wasn't just some order from Trigon? No, this was ridiculous; it was only Raven's consciousness fighting with his own! That was all!
Slade's distraction allowed Arella to interject into his thoughts. "Where is my daughter?"
The demonic messenger's resolve stiffened. Instead of giving a threatening, possessive response, he attempted to slide back into the callous calm he was known for. "She is hiding from Trigon's minions and her teammates."
"You have her," she accused while easing gently out of his grasp. She stepped slowly back from him, managing a shaky hold of her own. A hand was still supportive of her abdomen. Assumingly, she uttered, "If you are not taking me to the Blood Clan—"
"I have no intentions of taking you to the Blood Clan, but that doesn't mean I have any intentions of letting you see Raven," Slade snapped possessively. Raven was his to play with, after all.
Any thoughts that Slade had been doing this for Raven slipped from her mind. With that answer it was perfectly clear what was happening today. Apparently someone had gone against his orders. For some reason Trigon must have wanted her to wander until they truly wanted her. And Slade went to correct the mistake someone else made. Obviously, regardless of whether she was in the Blood Clan's custody or not, it seemed no one wanted her to reunite with her child. Arella stiffened her resolve.
"For saving me you have my gratitude." Slowly she limped forward to Slade, then past him. "But if you will not take me to my daughter, then I will find her on my own."
Slade wasn't through yet. His armored hands gripped her arms no differently than the teenagers had, and for a fleeting moment Arella worried she was in for another assault. Until now Slade never struck. Instead, he held her firmly to her spot, keeping her from leaving. Just what exactly had the man wanted from her now?
"Did you think that you are even capable of finding her when she doesn't even want to be found?"
Arella somehow doubted his words. He was implying that she truly was staying with him of her own free will. If her daughter willingly stayed with her enemy to hide as he put it, then perhaps her daughter was too far indulged within her demon blood to reach out to console. Was looking for her now even worth it when Raven would hunt her down once she fully turned?
Yes, it had to be.
Slade thought otherwise. "Did you assume you could avoid capture from the Blood Clan with these injuries?"
That at least held some truth. There was no way she could avoid further conflictfrom them. And that was what drove Slade to say something that had bubbled so deep inside. Loathingly, he spat, "You're weak."
He had said it, he had finally said it. The woman was a weak, pathetic fool who thought the world would just bend over and kiss the ground she walked on just because she refused to raise a hand in even the slightest of anger or aggression.
"I have been many things," she seemed entirely unaffected by the word. "But weak has not been one of them recently."
His fingers tightened around her bruised arms, and Arella groaned. He couldn't, no wouldn't hide how much he despised her actions anymore. Wouldn't hide how he opposed Raven's mental side that loved her. And he certainly wasn't hiding the bitterness that Raven still cared more for this feeble woman than himself.
"What else could come from pacifism?" It was hissed seethingly. Tear her apart. "Because of it you invite others to take advantage of you. Peace only breeds subjugation."
"Pacifism has brought contentment to my soul. You are lecturing that violence will solve every problem, yet all it has brought you is more violence and anger." It was spoken wisely, in words Arella remembered Azar would have said.
With great effort, she twisted around in Slade's hands to look at him over her shoulder. "I may be perceived as weak, but I am capable of enduring many things."
"Contentment?" Inwardly he scowled at the resolve she carried. But, Slade would work with what she gave him. "That is rather selfish of you, isn't it? Thinking of only yourself, trying to achieve contentment?"
"Pacifism is not comprised of selfishness. I do not expect you to understand."
"You refused to defend yourself in order to preserve soulful contentment. Because of it you are in no health to search for Raven," Slade churned out wittily, calmly, now feeling more like himself. "I thought you were a mother. Surely a mother would have sacrificed anything for her child."
"Do not speak to me of sacrifice." Arella's voice was hushed, insulted and bitter. Slade strained to hear it.
"A word of advice, Arella."
Arella was all ears.
"If you care for Raven, you would face facts. Azarath is dead and so is your way of life. Your foolishness and weakness has made you selfish. You don't deserve to see your daughter."
Finally, his words began to seep in. Had she really been selfish all this time? Was she really weak for believing quenching her anger would spare her and her child on some point? Weakly, she slumped back into the support his hands carried for her, defeated.
"What…" her voice was low and mournful, "do you propose?"
"I am not proposing anything, woman." Slade snickered. He knelt down and lifted her broken body again into his arms to carry on. Turning, he began to dart through the alleys once more. "I'm taking you to a shelter. What you do afterwards is your own choice. But this is the only time I'll spare you from His disciples. Make the most of it."
Arella nodded numbly in silence. She no longer could find her voice, lost in her own pain, both physical and emotional. Slade had dealt her a harsh and staggering blow far worse than the injuries obtained from the teenagers. He had won this battle, but it had opened up a new direction of questions. Where did he truly stand concerning Raven?
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It was mid evening, and normally the smells of a dinner meal would waft in through the air and filter through out the tower. The sounds of pans clattering together and the inane argument between two of the titans concerning a meal of meat versus a more vegetarian applicable diet would set off the rest of the mood. But it wasn't a normal evening, and the usual expressions of dinner were not present within the tower for its currently active members were concernedly thinking, toiling over events and future actions to take.
Robin dropped an ably large amount of books upon the den's built-in breakfast bar. He exhaled with a hint of exhaustion in his features. Tiredly, he looked up to Cyborg as he sat down beside him. The Masked Wonder nodded, noticing the rolled sheet of paper in one of his massive robotic hands. Moments later Beast Boy and Starfire emerged, cardboard boxes presently in hands.
"Dude, we have returned from our quest to retrieve the holy pizza! Plus ten health points for all!" Beast Boy announced their entrance.
Robin and Cyborg looked up, and both managed to spare a grin at the green boy's attempts to lighten the darker moods they had recently. But it wasn't to last, for Robin's expression dropped back into one of seriousness. Starfire was the first to notice the change in her friend, and as she placed their food on the breakfast bar became aware of the presence of the books. They were aged, withered, and most of them were musty tomes that still had evidence of dust clinging to their covers. The alien princess wearily realized they could be no others but Raven's.
Truth be told, it had been late when they came back from the Kane residence, and after their search, no one really had anything to say. Or so it seemed. Starfire and Beast Boy had succumbed to a welcome rest and all throughout the day were left to their own devices of entertainment while Robin and Cyborg were off by themselves. After being sent on the mission to pick up a couple pizzas for dinner, it looked like both Cyborg and Robin were prepared to go over what they had found. It was unsettling to both changeling and alien alike, but both were intent on keeping their morale as high as possible.
With a sigh, Starfire took a seat beside Robin, and Beast Boy hopped over the flat surface to Cyborg's side. Hopefully, Starfire spoke first. "We have found Raven?"
Silently Cyborg and Robin exchanged looks, and Starfire mumbled softly, "Oh." But stronger, she exclaimed. "Fear not, friends! I am certain Raven is safe!" The vow seemed hollow.
But Robin couldn't blame her for trying; he, in fact, greatly appreciated both her and Beast Boy's efforts. It was time to get serious, however, and when all eyes were on him, he began. "I'll start by reviewing what we discovered yesterday."
Out of the cover of one of the books Robin pulled a small folder out. He tossed this to the center of them, and photos of the Kane residence were revealed as it fell open. Robin took these photos and handed them around the group. While all of them eyed the materials in their possession, Robin continued.
"We arrived at the Kane property at dawn. By that time, an extensive clean up had been done. Computers had been removed from the premises. Blood had been cleaned. A fight had taken place in one room that had been sealed off by plaster.
"We investigated the woods on the property after a tracking signal that belonged to Raven. When the signal cut, we assumed it was a false alarm. Upon reinvestigation, we found the broken pieces of the tracking chip in the mud."
Then he presented the pieces in his hand.
"Not far by the site, we found evidence of another skirmish."
Cyborg took over before Robin's obsession drove him to ugly ends of the conversation. "And we found Slade's mask. Raven was there at one point, and got a good hit in. But her tracks don't show she walked out of there. But the indentations of some of the tracks indicate extra weight. She was carried out."
"Then Slade has her," Starfire reassessed. "Yes, I am finding that I remember this all too well."
"While everyone rested, I had done some thinking about what we found." Robin announced, as if it was no surprise. "Adeline and her two sons are unaccounted for. Beast Boy, you said you smelled something dead."
All heads turned to him, "Oh yeah. Definitely. Something died in that blocked room. And then there was Raven…"
Beast Boy had spent his time searching the house as one of many animals with a keen sense of smell. Raven's scent was easily enough to detect in the house, but there was something dark and treacherous about it. Animals had a way of feeling a threat…and Raven's presence felt just that threatening. He didn't know how else to describe it, or even if he wanted to accept such a thing.
"I took that into account, and wondered if Adeline Kane and her sons were killed—"
Starfire slammed her palms on the table, standing up with a roar. "You do not finish that thought! Raven would never!"
Everyone paused, starring in awe at the alien. But Robin knew the evidence was grim. There had been a fight, and it was natural to assume Raven was not in much control of her powers. She was growing in strength, and it all led up to a plausible scenario. In an effort to fight Slade, her powers unintentionally killed someone. Perhaps this led to a depletion of energy, giving Slade the opportunity to carry her away. There were still other scenarios; Slade could have easily killed someone, and Robin didn't put it past him.
"I'm not saying she did, and I'm not saying anyone died for a fact. I'm just saying that it's a possibility." Robin offered to calm her.
Starfire pouted in return. To her it was still impossible. Yes, she knew what the term demon meant, and she knew her friend to have trouble controlling herself. But Raven would never harm anyone intentionally, let alone kill. It was denial to the fullest, and a deep loyalty that was rare. But the Tamaranian stepped down, taking her seat and letting her aggression simmer.
Satisfied that his response quenched her anger, Robin continued.
"I did some researching last night. Adeline Kane was a part of the Secret Service. If she and her sons went missing, either they were killed or they relocated. The computer and the plaster may be government cover ups."
"If either are the case," Cyborg added, "it's probable that we won't find any of 'em for questions."
Starfire's shoulders sank. "Then the only one who knows what had happened was Raven."
"And Slade," Beast Boy added. "And you can bet we won't get squat out of him."
"And Raven is with Slade," Starfire murmured again, sulkily sliding back down into her seat.
"We have no leads to find her." Cyborg stated to the two younger titans. "Right now we have to trust Raven to contact us or wait until Slade shows his face."
Robin nodded silently, lips firmly pressed. "All this time, all the actions Raven's taken were to protect us. I think it's time we step up to the plate. Cyborg?"
The cybernetic titan stood and unrolled the paper that he had contained. It sprawled the length of the table, and on its surface was what appeared to be a room. Scribbled at the top of the plans were the words "Safe Room."
Slowly, Starfire was beginning to realize what Raven's books were for.
"Aw'ight, y'all. Listen up." All headslooked down to the concoction Cyborg had spent his night designing. "We've got to build this room before Raven comes back. It'll be equipped with the most recent state-of-the-art technology. Nothin', and I mean nothin', will be able to get in after her."
Robin patted a hand on the volumes he had collected. "And we can use whatever we can from her books to blockade against anything with powers. She'll be completely safe."
He said it with confidence, believing every word that was said between Cyborg and himself. This vigor only seemed to improve Starfire's outlook, for to her, Robin was never wrong about these things.
Robin noticed this right away. "Since we all agree," hepaused to see the green Titan give a thumb up, "let's get something in our stomachs. Then we begin work immediately." All nodded in agreement. Robin smiled cockily. "Titans—"
The display screen blinked and beeped several times in interruption, its purpose meaning an incoming message. Hurriedly, Robin rushed up to the screen's computer as the other's followed, and punching in a code before the message was accepted. Much to the dismay of everyone, the notorious face of Slade fused upon their screen.
"Robin," it was spoken cheerfully, "So good to see you."
"Slade…" Robin spat. "Where's Raven?"
"In time, Robin," Slade lightly scolded. His eye seemed to wander the room before halting on the plans left upon the table. "How cute…you're renovating. I'm sure Raven will be touched."
Robin's face skewed up in a snarl. "Where's Raven?"
"Impatient, aren't you?" He exhaled an aggravated sigh. "If you must know, she's resting." His eye twinkled, the lids narrowing in just a way to indicate his twisted smile of delight. "Let's just say our frisk left her rather…" A hand thoughtfully lifted to hold his chin. "…exhausted."
Robin opened his mouth to argue but Cyborg impulsively beat him to it. "If you're even thinkin' about touchin' her I swear I'll—"
"You'll what?" Slade questioned innocently. "Don't be so quick to accuse. I did nothing that the gem didn't want herself."
Those words stung Robin greatly. He realized what Slade left unsaid. Unless Raven let him, there was no way Slade could…not unless Slade was talking about something else entirely different. That had to be it. His arch nemesis was just using words to mess with them.
"I want to see her." Robin demanded with a low order.
"Hmmm….." He contemplated, hand teasingly on his chin, finger tapping ever so gently upon his two-tone mask. "No."
Robin growled audibly. "What do you want, Slade?" The question sounded more like a lowly spoken demand.
"Want? What have I ever wanted, Robin?" he lightly mocked in response. "Don't answer that, it's unimportant. I'm calling to propose a trade."
"For Raven?" Robin responded cautiously.
"This isn't about Raven."
"No, it's just been about Raven forthe past few months." Asnide remark.
"Don't press me, Robin, not unless you want something unfortunate to happen to your little friend."
Again, Robin growled in anger. How Slade could just so easily work his buttons was beyond him. Begrudgingly, Robin forced through clenched teeth, "What kind of trade?"
"I am willing to answer any of your questions within reason for any information regarding the whereabouts of my sons."
"Find them yourself," Robin sneered back. "You have the resources."
"But I do not have the time. Raven is my primary concern, and if Raven insists upon my attention, I'm obliged to give it." This was said with a darkness lingering about him, and Robin was quick to realize that perhaps Raven had Slade wrapped around her fingers. It meant he wouldn't be around the titans, or wreaking havoc anywhere. Was it possible Raven was trying to keep Slade distracted?
Robin had no choice but to go along with that idea.
"What kind of information can you give us?" Robin once again said with caution, though his voice was still rough and hard.
"Anything you want to know concerning Raven, her heritage, or even the mess or lack there of you found at Adeline Kane's residence." There was no need to announce his ex-wife was dead, not yet. And there was still a part of him that tugged with pleading to not submit to them that information.
"If we are talking about Raven, the best way to give us any information we want is to let us see her." Robin negotiated. All those things didn't matter, as long as they could talk with her, make sure she was all right; that's what counted.
"That can be arranged…"Slade mused delicately.
"When?" Another demand.
"When I receive my end of the deal."
That could take days, weeks. Robin couldn't spend that time tracking information for Slade when Raven could be hurt or worse during that time. He sliced a gloved hand horizontally through the air. "No deal."
"You strike a hard bargain Robin…" Slade seemed to have gotten seriously annoyed by Robin's arrogance. "I tried to be nice, but I see you leave me no choice. I don't have to lecture you upon mind rape, do I?"
The entire group held glares of silent responses.
"Good, then know that I won't hesitate to attack Raven in such a manor." Slade threatened.
"Raven is strong, she will not let you do that to her," Starfire defended.
"You can easily say that now, but how long do you think it would take to break her walls?" Oh, how Slade loved to lead them on. "The hour draws nearer, and her father will not ease up on Hisattacks to her mind. She hasn't meditated in weeks. With that kind of distraction how well do you suppose she can hold her fort? Days? Hours? Minutes? Seconds?"
Robin's teeth ground violently. "Fine…just don't hurt her."
Slade grinned triumphantly. "I'm glad you could see it my way."
Slade's face vanished, dissolving away into nothing. The screen held lingering traces, ghost images, of what was there. When that vanished, Robin's tense shoulders slumped in mild defeat. A hand rose to his nose and he pinched the bridge. His face held an aggravated expression.
A half minute of silence, and Robin finally turned to address his team. "Eat something, and then get to work on the room."
He began to storm out slowly with strong and pressing steps. Starfire floated several steps behind him, hand reaching out to catch his shoulder. "But…"
Robin turned, offering her a half-smile. Starfire realized it to be forced, but she appreciated it. Since his time with the True Master, everyone had become aware of his attempts to let more of his heated aggression go when in attention to his friends.
"Bring me up a few slices when you guys are situated. I've got to start on this research." He turned again to leave, but stopped, adding, "And for the love of Pete don't bring me up any of Beast Boy's veggie pizza."
"DUUDE! I totally heard that!" Beast Boy snapped back, fist rattling in defense of his food.
"Hey man, it's totally covered. I'll save ya a few slices of my meat lover's supreme." Cyborg responded, trying to mimic the light heartedness Robin attempted to convey. It helped to lighten Robin's mood just slightly.
"No way, man! You are so getting some of this stuff right here." The green teen was already dishing Robin up a plate.
"Look, ya little grass stain, Robin's got a long night ahead of him. He needs meat to keep him full so he doesn't have to have any distractions later!" Cyborg began a well-missed playful banter.
"Veggies are filling!"
"I have always felt that mustard has been the most delightful and filling of Earth foods…" Starfire interjected with a chime. "And, please, mayhap anyone introduce me to Pete?"
Cyborg and Beast Boy paused to stare at her a moment. Silence. Then suddenly went back to arguing amongst themselves.
Robin just shook his head. They were trying hard to remain optimistic. Deep down a portion of him bubbled seethingly that they took so lightly to what just happened. The boy wonder did his best to keep that buried. Instead he tried to absorb what he saw and exited into the hall. As Cyborg said, he would have a long night ahead of him.
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AN: Hey everyone! Before I get into my usual points, needed to state that this chapter was beta read by Kendra Chetnova. Also thought this was pretty neat, I found a Slade/Rae MV on You tube, and in the comments the creator said it was inspired by a fic called Radiance. Link is here if you wanna check it out: here. Don't think I can post links in this thing, er, I guess you can pm me/review and ask for the link and I'll send it by via personal message/email or whatever.
Now as I was saying… Hope this one wasn't too bad a chapter since it didn't center around Raven this time. However, I felt it was important to show what Arella and the Titans were doing. I think the relation between Slade's and Arella's characters are interesting. They're both messengers of a sort, yet both view things in very different ways, where Slade is violent, Arella is passive. I think in time you'll see how much the encounter with Slade will change Arella's actions. What Slade had told her will affect her view of judgment, and I think it'll allow for her to become a stronger character and I hope it will help her in aiding Raven.
The scene featuring the Titans actually went through many, many revisions. The original version of it took place at the Kane residence; while investigating the area, they would have met Arella there. Of that original version I had actually split it up into the scene you just read and the one in which Arella was in the woods with her self reflection.